There are moments in our lives where we can truly appreciate who we are and what we are. I am sure there are times I am happy to be a woman, like every time I see a dude get cracked in the junk…I am happy I don’t have junk that can bring me down like that. God damn wussy peepees.

But let me point out there are are unsavory parts to being a woman. There are the obvious ones: The wild wolverine who takes up residence in my uterus once a month and goes crazy all up in there causing blood, cramps and general mental illness feelings.

There’s the body image things. I know anyone can suffer from poor self esteem, but I think we all know girls kind of have that market cornered.

You get the picture, there are pros and cons to having boobs and a va-jayjay, but here are a couple of cons I bet you haven’t read about:

The fact that you need a fucking safe cracking kit to get into any sort of informational tool meant to be peed on. Any woman well versed in fertility knows that the most accurate way to get a true reading on a pregnancy test or ovulation test is to use the pee when you first get up in the morning. So, there you are, about to pee on yourself, half asleep and struggling to open the test. As if it isn’t humiliating enough that you have to pee on something, they make it almost impossible.*

Here’s another fun fact: sunburns and bras are a terrible combination and I wouldn’t recommend it.** I can sit here and complain that if society wasn’t so this-or-that I wouldn’t have to wear a bra and things would be a hunky dory, but my boobs have girth and they need to be corralled. It can get painful if I need to go down some steps or jog into a store and the girls are bouncing up and giving me black eyes.

*Just settle the fuck down. I am not pregnant, nor are we trying to get pregnant. Knowing when not to have sex is our only form of birth control right now and I shouldn’t even be explaining this to you! GOSH.

**And don’t even talk to me about sunscreen because I KNOW! It’s not like I planned this. Jeez.